


The Hazards (And Miracles) Of Christmas Shopping

by PersephoneBee



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, Christmas Shopping, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Holidays, It's a lot fluffier than it sounds, Keith (Voltron) Is Supportive, Keith (Voltron) Works Retail, M/M, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Possible smut later on, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shopping Malls, Soldier! Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 07:03:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13094910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PersephoneBee/pseuds/PersephoneBee
Summary: Few things scare Shiro these days. You fight a war long enough, you learn to forge ahead through just about anything. Keep your head down and pick up your feet. Yet no amount of training could have prepared him for this.Shopping in a mall with less than two weeks until Christmas.





	The Hazards (And Miracles) Of Christmas Shopping

Few things scare Shiro these days. You fight a war long enough, you learn to forge ahead through just about anything. Keep your head down and pick up your feet. Yet no amount of training could have prepared him for this.

Shopping in a mall with less than two weeks until Christmas.

He had done plenty of shopping since returning home from combat, but nothing of this magnitude. It had seemed simple enough when he'd gone to bed last night. Browse a couple stores, pick out a few gifts, grab lunch and head home. He hadn't considered the wave of last-minute shoppers.

Shiro stepped inside a book store then stepped back out five minutes later when he came shoulder to shoulder with a wall of people barricading every aisle. He could feel his muscles tense surrounded by so many bodies. Rolling his shoulders, Shiro decided to try another store.

That was when he made his second mistake- his first was declining Matt's help the day before. He spotted a group of kids about Pidge's age heading into a nearby shop and decided to tail them for gift ideas. Shiro couldn't recall ever shopping at 'Hot Topic', but the number of teens passing in and out of the store was encouraging.

Inside music blasted from hidden speakers. While it wasn't as crowded as the bookstore, the aisles were very unforgiving. He figured his best shot at getting around the store was to first check out the perimeter and then work his way towards the center. The western wall appeared to be devoted to superheroes- Wonder Woman wallets, Spider-Man keychains, and Batman backpacks. Unfortunately Pidge wasn't particularly interested in superheroes. Squeezing between a couple getting cozy and a jewelry display, Shiro stumbled further into the store.

The music continued to beat overhead. Was it getting louder? Shiro looked up at a wall lined with t-shirts. There were a lot of band tees- some he recognized, others he'd never heard of before. Those that weren't music related were... weird. Some had ironic quotes that flew over Shiro's head; others he just couldn't wrap his head around. Cats in space? Cute, but a silly idea.

Maybe it's been too long for Shiro to remember what it felt like to be a kid.  
Or young.  
Or normal.

Running a hand through his fringe, Shiro huffed a breath and resumed his search. He tugged at his shirt collar as he walked the perimeter. Had it gotten hotter- he bumped into someone- or was the place getting more crowded? The music was definitely louder than when he walked in. Shiro stopped. He lifted a shaky hand to the shelf in front of him. There, nestled between the lanyards and the hair bows, was a box-shaped blue mug. He picked it up and looked it over. Shiro had seen this before. A... phonebooth? It was from that show Matt and Pidge liked. They'd made him watch a few episodes on Netflix. What was it called? He put his hand to his head.

The cool plastic of his prosthetic felt good on his skin. It helped soothe the headache he was getting from the music pounding his skull. Whatever the mug was, Shiro was [almost] sure Pidge would enjoy it. Relief washed through him as he made a hasty retreat towards the register. Unfortunately the line was long. Very long. Yet he refused to walk away- not after finding the [almost] perfect present!

The blood in his ears began to pulse in time with the music. He felt raw, like an exposed nerve or a loose electrical wire. He couldn't keep still. His skin itched where it met his shirt. Drawing a breath to calm himself only backfired. The woman in front was wearing too much perfume and it burned his nose. Whoever was behind him was pressing too close for comfort. 

"Excuse me..."

A hand came down on his shoulder.

Sweat beaded his temples.

His heart pounded in his chest.

He couldn't breathe.

Shiro whirled around. Two girls- high school undoubtedly- huddled close together smiling up at him. His heart slowed down minutely as he struggled to control his breathing. The girl who'd touched him carried on completely unfazed.

"My friend loves your hair. She says it looks good on you," the girl's friend ducked her head while her own eyes roamed over Shiro's form, "very good on you." His mouth suddenly felt dry, his tongue sticking like sandpaper. Shiro choked out a 'thanks' and turned back around, actively ignoring the fit of giggles behind him.

"Next!"

Shiro looked up to see that the line had moved on without him. He hurried to the cashier and set the mug on the counter. When the cashier raised an eyebrow at his trembling- or was it his prosthetic- he immediately shoved his hand into his coat pocket.

"That'll be sixteen dollars and three cents," The cashier held out a hand to collect the money. Shiro swallowed and fumbled for his wallet. His hands couldn't stop shaking. Quarters and nickles spilled out of his wallet as he dug around. He could feel the weight of the employee's stare bearing down on him. Finally he fished out a twenty and slammed it onto the counter top. There was a low ringing in his ears. The corners of his vision were fuzzy and unclear.

"... okay? Sir?"

He bolted.

Shiro ran out of the store, unaware of other customers as he collided into them. He ran through the crowd. He ran until he spied a restroom. Ducking inside he threw open the nearest stall and began to heave. The toast, the eggs, and the coffee he'd carefully prepared for breakfast landed in the porcelain bowl. Even when there was nothing left inside his stomach he heaved. He stayed on the floor and waited for the worst of the shaking to subside. When he felt it safe enough to stand he flushed and washed his hands, cupping water to his mouth to rinse out the acidic taste.

Not entirely trusting his stamina, Shiro walked toward the nearest bench and fell more than sat down. Gripping his hands together he bowed his head toward the floor. Around him the shoppers continued to stroll past, children laughed from the carousel, and the world moved forward without him.

"Sir! You forgot your mug!"

Whoever had called out to him stopped a few feet away. Shiro was grateful. He could see the person's red sneakers. He wanted to look up. He wanted to meet their gaze and say 'thank you'. He wanted to at least give the appearance that he was a functional human being.

He drew a shuddering breath. It made his ribs ache. Why couldn't he do something as simple as buy a mug? Why did he have to be so weak?

Silently the red sneakers walked away.

God he was pathetic. He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He wished...

"Here."

A gloved hand held a foam cup. Shiro looked up into the eyes of the clerk from Hot Topic. There was no pity, no disgust or annoyance, as Shiro had come to expect. What was there was ancient and unknowable. An old soul. Shiro accepted the cup and drank. When he'd downed the water, the man took the cup and disappeared around a corner. He returned minutes later and offered Shiro the cup once more. Shiro drank much slower, taking his time. His eyes stayed on the clerk and the clerk didn't look away.

"My shift ends in fifteen minutes. I'll be back. Wait for me," he stood there until Shiro nodded his head. With a nod in return he followed the path to the store.

Shiro sat on the bench watching people pass, his mind blessedly silent. Eventually the clerk came back. It could have been five minutes, it could have been forty. Shiro didn't really know. Leaving a wide berth between them, the man inclined his head to some place over his shoulder.

"This way," he turned and started walking, not looking back to see whether Shiro followed. He did.

They walked past the escalators and a fountain, never once getting caught behind shoppers or bumping into anyone. They moved like water over rocks, finding open spaces in a single fluid path. Shiro could smell it before he cold see it. The food court. His stomach gave an involuntary growl. The food court looked like the rest of the mall- packed. Trekking on the clerk led them to a table tucked in the back. He pulled out a chair and finally looked at Shiro.

"Sit." Shiro sat. 

"You have a preference?" Shiro shook his head.

"Okay," he disappeared into the crowd. Unsure of what else to do, Shiro opted to grab some napkins and utensils. When the clerk returned Shiro had laid out two place settings on the small tabletop. The corner of the clerk's mouth quirked up into something between a smirk and a smile. 

"I got a little bit of everything and figured we'd split it." It was like 'Fantasia' but with food- food upon food upon food. He set down the tray and began to scoop half the fried noodles onto a paper plate. Shiro picked up one of the plastic knives and sawed a corn dog in two, then a hamburger. The clerk dumped the last of the fries onto a plate and passed it to Shiro.

"Lemonade good with you?"

Shiro paused the forkful of noodle en route to his mouth and worked up a smile. "Yes, thank you." The clerk smiled- not a smirk, Shiro noted- and began to eat. They ate in silence and for once Shiro didn't mind. It reminded him of sitting on the couch with Matt and Pidge when they were engrossed in a movie. Comfortable. 

He hadn't expected to eat everything on his plate- then again, he did empty the contents of his stomach into a shopping mall toilet. Draining the last of his lemonade, Shiro leaned back in his chair and took a moment to study his dining companion.

He looked a little young, about eighteen or nineteen. And lean. His jacket appeared to swallow him. The jacket itself was worse for the wear, sporting a few bald patches near the elbows and beginning to fray around one cuff. There was something dark caked under his fingernails. Ink? Nail polish? His hair was due for a trim, falling around the nape of his neck. Unless it was a statement. Then there were his eyes. They were... something. Keen and attentive, yet reserved. Like the flicker of a flame- burning with intensity one moment, gone the next. Always out of reach.

"I don't like to be stared at."

Shiro jolted in his seat, effectively jostling the table and disturbing the cutlery they'd put to rest. Had he been staring?

"Ah... sorry about that," he straightened in his chair and met the clerk's gaze. "I appreciate the kindness you've shown me since my... episode. It's amazing that you'd go so far to help a stranger. You've helped me a lot and I don't even know your name." Thinking back on the events of the day, Shiro couldn't help the smile that curled around his words.

The clerk continued to watch Shiro, his eyes appraising as if he were looking for something. Whatever he found must have satisfied the clerk because his eyes softened into a bemused smile. "My name is Keith," he paused, "At least that's what it says on my name tag." He pointed to the front of his jacket. Shiro followed Keith's finger. Sure enough there was a little plastic pin that read 'Keith' in all capital letters.

"Oh my god!" Shiro dragged his hand over his face as a blush spread to the tips of his ears. Peeking between prosthetic fingers, he checked to see- yep, Keith was definitely smirking. And then he was laughing. Before he realized hit, Shiro was laughing too. It took a minute for their laughter to settle down into quiet snickers, but eventually they resumed their amicable silence.

Keith folded his arms over his stomach, possibly to keep another laugh from getting loose. "So what about you? What brings you to the mall twelve days before Christmas?"

It was a fair question, even if the answer made him feel silly. "I've been avoiding Christmas shopping. When I thought of the crowds and how busy the stores would be... I was overwhelmed. So I put it off. Of course that just made things worse." Keith listened intently, his expression placid.

"Did you ask anyone to go with you?"

"Plenty of people offered. Several of them even said they'd do my shopping for me." When Shiro looked up he could see the set of Keith's lips; for the first time he didn't meet Shiro's eyes. Shiro was familiar with the expression. Hesitation. How many men had weighed the decision before pulling the trigger? He waited and Keith fired.

"Why did you turn them down?"

Shiro cast a rueful smile at the table, "I wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it. I hoped that once I got here I'd see they were just people and that it was just a store. I thought... I thought..."

"I get it." Before Shiro could reply Keith was out of his seat and dumping their trash into a bin. He extended a hand forward, "Let's go finish the rest of your Christmas shopping."

Shiro breathed in and out. He wasn't sure whether he was ready to enter the fray again. But tthere was Keith's palm- open and waiting. This man he'd just met was throwing him a lifeline. Shiro took it. 

He allowed Keith to haul him to his feet. The ground beneath Shiro felt solid, "Thanks Keith."

"No problem."

As they left their food court safe haven behind Shiro lifted his chin up and looked forward. Just people. Just stores. Nothing more.

"By the way..." Keith had his eyes on Shiro- wearing yet another smirk, "... you never told me your name."

"Oh! It's Shiro. Technically it's Takashi Shirogane, but everyone calls me Shiro."

"Shiro," Keith repeated the name as if testing to see whether it fit. A smile. "Nice to meet you Shiro."

Shiro smiled back, "Nice to meet you Keith."

**Author's Note:**

> Literally got the idea when I was in bed and it was past midnight. Thirty-one notes on my phone and an email later, here we are! Funny how it's the story I thought up out of the blue that gets published before the other two fics I've been developing. I honestly don't know what this is or where it's going- BUT I do intend to see it through to whatever end there may be.
> 
> ALSO: I am in no way a knowledgeable resource on the subjects of PTSD and panic attacks. I am learning as I go along, but I do apologize if anyone is upset/offended by my portrayal of Shiro's experience. The tags are there for anyone who is uncomfortable with the subject matter.


End file.
